


two hundred miles per hour with a blindfold on

by ComeBackToTheValley



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Discussion of Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Depression, some pixies possibly harmed in the writing of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeBackToTheValley/pseuds/ComeBackToTheValley
Summary: Cumulous Rocks and Sofia Lee talk life, death, dragons, but mostly shit about Tony Simos.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	two hundred miles per hour with a blindfold on

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://angryinterrobang.tumblr.com/post/637847209463988224/i-just-think-that-cumulous-and-sofia-should-meet) tumblr post and reply. Thanks to angryinterrobang on tumblr for their excellent comment about Cumulous and Sofia's dramatically different monk dynamics!
> 
> Conversation gets a bit heavy partway through. Discussions of of death, and implied depression and self-destructiveness. If any of these are difficult subjects for you, please approach with caution.

“He…doesn’t like magic?”

“I know! Said a bunch of crap about ‘It’s not really magic, what we do.’ Yeah, well, what you do hasn’t been doing anything, as far as I can tell!”

The strange monk who wears very high, pointy shoes that seem impractical for fighting, slams her palm down on the table. It’s a heavy hit, a good strong one, and he doesn’t underestimate her for a second. Maybe the shoes are some kind of balance training. It would probably be rude to ask.

“You’re so lucky,” Sofia Lee says “You don’t have to put up with Tony and his shit. I bet you get to do cool magic stuff without someone breathing down your fucking neck the whole time.”

He understands. He briefly considers telling Sofia Lee about the Bulbians, how much they hated Candia’s magic, how much they probably still do even though Amethar is the Concordant Emperor now. Especially because he is. He thinks about how many years he’d spent watching magic wither and die, unable to do anything because of the looming presence of the Church, ready to cut down and burn any heretic it found at the stake. How much it had hurt to see something so beautiful and wild and dangerous and important fade away, clinging to tiny little scraps hidden away in a cold dark that was neither good or holy.

But it would take too many words to say even a little of that, and words have never been his tools of choice in the first place.

“Do you want to hold this?” he says, holding out the Sugarspun Staff “It’s magic. I can turn into a cloud with it.”

“Nice,” Sofia says, taking it and holding it with all the proper reverence that a weapon —especially a magical weapon— deserves. She runs a hand along its side “You think you know where I can get something like this? Ooh, maybe like a brass knuckles or something that tazes people with lightning when you hit them?”

“This was enchanted for an elder monk of the Order of the Spinning Star,” he says, remembering the first time he’d been allowed to hold the Sugarspun Staff as a young monk, wondering if he would ever get to use such a powerful weapon like this “It’s unique.”

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” Sofia says, and grins “My fists are pretty good anyways.”

She holds her up her fists, and because he can do the same, he recognizes a faint essence of magic on them. Not even a real spell, just something that makes it easier to fight creatures that are a little bit tougher against ordinary weapons. He agrees though. No one ever went wrong with a good pair of fists.

“So what’s it like in your part of Dreaming?” Sofia says. She seems to think that Candia is part of some place called Dreaming, which he isn’t sure why. He knows that she lives in a strange world where everything is a little bit different. The stones are too dull, the metals are too cold and shiny, and the people are all so identical. Not even a round muffin person or a brightly coloured jellybean farmer. No one could make this stuff up. It’s like stepping into a fantasy world.

He does like all the tall buildings though. He’s never seen buildings this tall before, and so close together you could practically jump from rooftop to rooftop and cross the whole city without touching the ground once. He wonders if Sofia’s ever done that. It looks like it would be fun.

“We have dragons,” he says, and Sofia’s mouth drops “They’re new. Or not new, but they’re coming back. There used to be more, then there weren’t for a while, until Saccharina found Cinnamon’s egg. Saccharina’s our queen. Cinnamon is her dragon.”

“That’s so fucking cool!” Sofia says “Like in Game of Thrones, whatshername, that woman with the white hair, she has dragons and they’re like her kids.”

He doesn’t understand that reference, although Saccharina does treat Cinnamon like her child. 

“We have more dragons now,” he says “There was this magic seed thing, and the whole land grew several hundred times, and now there are more dragons. To be honest, I don’t really- I don’t understand how it all works. I’m just here to protect its magic.”

“Yeah, no, I totally get that,” Sofia says “I mean, I try to research a lot of stuff, and I kinda get some of it, but then there’s people like Esther who just sit down and read a book and just get it all, and I’m standing there like ‘So what do you need me to hit?’ It’s cool, that’s what she’s good at, I just need to know enough to get the mission done, right?”

“Whatever it takes,” he nods. Sofia tips an imaginary glass at him.

“No, but you know,” she says, leaning back in her chair so that it’s balanced on the back legs only “It sucks when no one else sees that things could be better. Like, just because it is what it fucking is doesn’t mean it has to be. There’s so many things we could be, and what, we’re just going to hold the same old line forever? Treat anything magic like it’s cooties or something? There’s good people out there who do a lotta good for this place with magic, and it’s stupid to act like they’re the bad guys just because they don’t do things how we do things.”

He doesn’t know exactly what she’s talking about. He thinks this is probably about that Tony person who doesn’t like magic, but something in her face and the way she’s talking makes him think it’s also about more than that. He’s pretty sure he gets what she’s trying to go for, he understands that part well enough. The frustration with people who want to keep things the same way forever, and who’re scared of new things or different things, even if they can make things better. It’s not really about magic, not with them. Just fear of anything they don’t know.

“I don’t think they’ll change their minds,” he says. Sofia doesn’t look surprised. She’s probably already realized this herself “Even if you show them that the world can be a great place with magic. They’re scared. Scared people want to be safe.”

“Nothing is safe,” Sofia says, leaning forward and slamming her fist down on the table again. Less control, he notices, more anger “Don’t people understand that? Nothing is ever safe! It could all be taken away at any minute, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, and you just have to find some way of going on even though there’s nothing left to go on for.”

Her voice cracks at the end of that sentence. She looks away. He thinks about what she’s said, what she hasn’t said, what she’s really said. Thinks about fear and loss and helplessness, years of not being good enough, strong enough, fast enough, of feeling like a failure as everything and nothing changed. Thinks about the one certainty, the waiting maw, where everyone goes in the end.

“You’re right,” he says. Sofia looks at him, and he recognizes the fear there, and the hopelessness “Nothing is safe. The only thing that doesn’t change is death.”  
Sofia laughs. Her voice is low, and mocking.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” she says.

He shrugs.

“Maybe,” he says “It is for me. I don’t- I’ve seen a lot of people die. Some of them did all the things they wanted to do while they were alive, but most of them probably didn’t. I almost died once. It wasn’t scary. I knew what I was doing, and I knew that it was worth it even if I died. I didn’t die that time. But I am going to die eventually. Maybe I’ll know it’s coming, and maybe I won’t. I probably won’t have done all the things I wanted to do. So I should just be worried that I’m doing what I should do. Because most people don’t get all the things they want. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing left for them to do.”

Sofia doesn’t say anything right away. He hopes he hasn’t offended her. He isn’t very good at comforting. At least, not in a way that’s not grief. 

“So that’s all there is?” she says, just as he’s starting to think that he must have really said something wrong “Just doing your duty until you die?”  
He shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says “I don’t think anyone knows what’s going to happen. Maybe it’s what there is now. Maybe there’ll be something different later. It could just happen, or maybe you have to make it happen yourself.”

Sofia laughs a little. It’s a bitter sound, and he wonders what he’s said wrong this time.

“What, like some kind of chosen one?” she says “What if I choose something I can’t have?”

All at once, it all becomes very clear. He wonders who she’s lost.

“I don’t know,” he says again “I just make the choices I can. I guess, I think about it this way. There’s things that aren’t my choice. They’re going to happen or not happen no matter what I do. But I can still choose what to do, even if it doesn’t make things happen that I want. Maybe someone died, and I couldn’t stop that. But I can choose not to join them just yet.”

There’s a sharp inhale from Sofia. So his instinct was right. He hopes this isn’t too prying. It’s pretty clear that something’s bothering her, and he feels sorry for her. It doesn’t sound like she really gets along with her Order, which he can’t even imagine what that must be like. Those long years of waiting and isolation would have been impossible if he hadn’t had his fellow monks with him. It isn’t that the monks of the Spinning Star never fight or disagree about anything, or that they even like each other all the time. But at least, when it matters, they stand beside each other. 

He wonders who stands beside Sofia, and makes the world a little less lonely.

Sofia’s hands flex. He can see the lines in them, the strength behind the tension. She’s an excellent fighter, he can tell. Not just skill-wise. She’s got a fighter’s spirit.

“Well,” Sofia says, with a lot of effort. She puts a smile on her face that’s as tight as her fingers “Like you said. No one knows what’s going to happen.”

He hopes he hasn’t hurt her. He doesn’t imagine that she’s really listening to him. Most grieving people he’s met aren’t in a place to listen to anyone. It’s just words to say that they’re not alone, that there’s someone there beside them. The other stuff will come later, if it comes at all.

“Do you have dragons here?” he says. It isn’t the best change of subject he’s ever made. He hasn’t ever managed to do that very well. But Sofia seems relieved.

“I’ve read about them,” she says “In the monastery texts. There’s been sightings before, years ago, and someone found a draconic scale in the subway once, but that was all years ago. Pete thinks the ones in the city are probably all in hiding. There’s probably some in Nod too.”

He doesn’t know what a subway or a Nod is, but he assumes dragons are the same whether they’re in his world or a fantasy world. They like their privacy, and their secrets.

There’s the sound of several chimes. Sofia swears, and pulls out the Sending device from her pocket. She taps it a couple of times, and swears some more.

“Sorry, I gotta go deal with some shit,” she says “Some new pixie gang out of Faerie. Fuck, I thought Rowan had them under control.”

She stands up.

“Do you want to come?” she says suddenly “Could do with some backup, and it’d be nice to have another monk at my back.”

He’s never one to turn down a fight. He doesn’t think Sofia would say no to a good battle either. And he recognizes the desperate need for a distraction when he sees one.

“Let’s go,” he says, standing up “Which way?”

Sofia frowns for a moment, does some calculations in her head. She looks out the window, at all those tall, tall buildings. A wide grin, a real one, full of danger and adrenaline curves onto her face.

“Do you know what parkour is?”

Her shoes don’t turn out to be impractical for running or fighting in the least. They bludgeon surprisingly violent pixies impressively well too.

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend "What's Up, Danger?" by Blackway and Black Caviar as an excellent Cumulous and Sofia song.
> 
> Come say hi on my [tumblr!](https://thevalleyisjolly.tumblr.com)


End file.
